


Lady Eudora, Non-Fairy Godmother

by ami_ven



Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Cinderella - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10768587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: Lady Eudora is theprince’sgodmother, but she still gets Cinderella to the ball.





	Lady Eudora, Non-Fairy Godmother

“There’s this girl,” said Prince Edward.

His godmother smiled. “Isn’t there always?”

“Not like this girl,” Ed insisted.

“Oh?” said Lady Eudora, expectantly.

His godmother was no blood relation, but a childhood playmate of Ed’s father and his elder sister. She was a lady in waiting to his aunt, now Queen Rosalind, but often journeyed back to visit King Albert and her favorite (if only) godchild.

“She’s… true,” he said, after a long moment. “Which is more than I deserve, the way I’ve been lying to her.”

“Nothing untoward, I hope?” asked Lady Eudora, knowingly.

“No!” said Ed, at once. “I didn’t— it wasn’t a lie, exactly. I said that I worked in the palace— which is true!— but I allowed her to remain under the impression that I’m some kind of footman.”

“And you have been honest otherwise?” Lady Eudora asked.

“I’ve told her things I’ve never told anyone else, Godmother,” he said.

“Well, then, what seems to be the trouble? Not the acquaintance of a lovely young woman?”

“That’s exactly the trouble,” said Ed. “And I don’t know what to do.”

Lady Eudora held out her hands and pulled Ed to sit on the settee beside her. “Tell me.”

“She’s called Cinderella,” he said. “That’s not the name she was christened with, but she’s never told me any other. She lives in her father’s house, at the edge of the Royal Forest, with her stepmother and two stepsisters. She is treated like a servant, but she never complains. She sings, even, while she does her chores!”

“She sounds lovely. Where did you meet her?”

“I met her in the marketplace, months ago, when I…ah…”

“Snuck out of the palace?” said Lady Eudora.

“Yes, that,” Ed admitted. “And I had to see her again, Godmother, so I went again the next week, and asked if I could carry her shopping home. I.. went back, when I could. I tried to help. I’ve carried firewood, and hauled water. I’ve even cooked! Sort of. But she works so hard, Godmother! And her family are completely ungrateful.”

“You are the prince,” said Lady Eudora. “The crown prince. Couldn’t you return and confront your friends’ family? Demand they treat her better?”

“And what happens after I’ve left?” Ed replied. “Things will likely be worse for her.”

“Spoken like a true future monarch,” said his godmother. “Then what are you going to do?”

Ed took a deep breath, then asked, “You’ve come for the ball, haven’t you, Godmother?”

She nodded. “The ball to which your father has invited every marriageable princess within traveling distance, yes.”

“Yes,” he repeated, dully. “The ball at which Father and his council will select my bride. They may even pretend to allow me some say in the matter.”

Lady Eudora squeezed his hand. “We both know you must marry, Ed,” she said, softly. “What do you intend to do?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sounding lost. “I asked Father to invite every maiden in the kingdom, hoping that Cinderella will come to the ball. But am I making it worse, knowing I will never be able to see her again, after I’m married? Am I making it worse for _her_ , not knowing if she will even be allowed to come, knowing the life she will have to return to, once the night is over?”

“You care about her a great deal,” his godmother said.

Ed paused. “I think I love her.”

Lady Eudora was silent for a long moment. “Her name is Cinderella, you say. And her father— her late father, I presume? Yes— had an estate just past the Royal Forest?”

“Yes, Godmother,” said Ed, frowning.

“And how would you describe your friend? How would I know her, should I see her?”

“She’s small,” he replied. “Not any taller than my sister Anna. Fair, with honey-colored hair and blue eyes. And she,” he smiled, “she has such small feet, Godmother. She’s forever losing one of her shoes, and I’ve helped her put it back on. Her foot fits just in my hand, heel to toes.”

Lady Eudora smiled, and he frowned at her. “What are you thinking, Godmother?”

“Hmm? Oh, a great deal,” she said, and got to her feet. “Go to the ball, Ed. Be charming, smile, dance with the girls your father introduces. And in the meantime, let me work a little magic.”

“Magic, Godmother?”

She leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Trust me, Godson.”

He smiled. “Of course.”

Lady Eudora smiled back and left.

In the corridor outside, she paused, then changed direction, leaving the royal wings for the servants’ quarters and finally knocking on a plain door at the end of the court artists’ hall.

“My lady,” said Estella, the mistress of the court wardrobe. “Your gown for the ball is nearly finished! Have you come to see it?”

“No, thank you,” said Lady Eudora. “I’m sure that it’s just as beautiful as every one of your creations before it. But I’m afraid I haven’t come to see my gown. I’ve come to impose upon your talents and request another gown to be made.”

“Another gown, my lady?” asked Estella, her smile slipping a little. “Surely all of the royal court have already had their gowns made?”

“Indeed they have,” Lady Eudora agreed. “This is a special request, Mistress Estella. I should like a gown for a young lady, about the height of Princess Anna, though slightly older,”— the second-oldest princess was only fifteen— “and slender, very slender. This gown should be a match to the prince’s new suit.”

“I—” said Estella. “In time for the ball? To match the prince?”

“Yes. Can it be done?”

The wardrobe mistress paused, then smiled. “It _will_ be done. I am especially proud of His Highness’s suit, my lady, if I do say so myself, and his lady shall have its equal. Simple yet, elegant, and the stitching— yes, fit for a princess!”

“Thank you, Mistress Estella.”

*

The ball was beautiful.

Music floated through the palace, spirited enough for dancing but not too loud for conversation. Edward had danced with dozens of young ladies— each lovely, he was sure, if only he’d cared to pay attention to any of them— and he resisted the urge to sigh as he turned into a spin and felt his dance partner change places.

Then, he saw his new partner, and smiled. “Hello, Godmother.”

“She isn’t here, is she?” Lady Eudora asked.

Ed shook his head. “No sign of her. But…”

She followed his gaze to a trio of gaudily-dressed ladies, clearly a mother and her two daughters, standing sulkily at the edge of the dancing floor. The last of Lady Eudora’s suspicions were confirmed, and her turned back to the prince.

“Keep dancing, Edward,” she said. “I have a plan.”

She curtsied and left the ballroom.

It was only a short carriage ride through the Royal Forest from the palace, and Lady Eudora ordered her footmen to stop at the end of a once-grand driveway. She pulled an old woolen cloak over her gown and started down the walk. As she neared the house, she heard a faint crying sound and followed it.

In the garden was a young woman, half-bent over the lip of a stone fountain, wearing the tattered remains of a gown at least thirty years out of fashion.

“There’s no need to cry, my dear,” said Lady Eudora.

The girl jumped up. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was…” She swiped at her eyes and attempted to straighten her dress. “Can I help you?”

“No, but I can help you. You were wishing you could go to the ball, weren’t you?”

She looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“Well,” said Lady Eudora, then she grinned. “Well, my dear, I’m your fairy godmother.”

“But surely there are no such things as fairies,” the girl said, hesitantly.

“Perhaps. But how would you explain this, Cinderella?”

Her eyes widened, both at the use of her name and the small trunk that Lady Eudora produced from the folds of her cloak. Carefully, the older woman set the trunk on the lip of the fountain and opened it.

“Oh,” said Cinderella, as she pulled out the dusky blue gown, trimmed in delicate silver lace. 

“You _shall_ go to the ball,” said Lady Eudora. “You will be the envy of every woman there.”

“Oh, no, but I couldn’t,” she protested.

The older woman smiled. “There is a young man who is very eager to see you arrive.”

Cinderella blushed prettily. “Ed— that is, my friend, Edward, who works at the palace…” She paused. “Is he really waiting for me?”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Eudora assured her.

“But I have no gown, no shoes, no _coach_ …”

“My coach will bring you home again, after the ball. And this gown is for you. If you still want to go.”

Cinderella paused, hesitating, then nodded. “Yes,” she said, then louder, “Yes, I want to go to the ball.”

“Good.”

The girl blushed again, as Lady Eudora helped her out of her ruined gown and into the new one, then twisted her hair up in gilded pins and washed her face with gentle hands.

“There,” she said.

“Oh, thank you, Fairy Godmother!” Cinderella cried, smoothing the skirts reverently.

“You’re very wel— Oh!” Lady Eudora had gone to place Cinderella’s torn gown— her late mother’s, the girl had whispered, folding it carefully— into the trunk. “Your shoes.”

“Oh,” Cinderella breathed, slipping them on. They were silver lace, to match the gown, glittering like glass in the low light, and they fit perfectly. “ _Thank you._ ”

Lady Eudora smiled and held out her hand. “Come along, my dear. You carriage awaits.”

Cinderella took her arm. “Fairy Godmother, I’m grateful for everything, but I can’t help worrying— My stepmother and stepsisters…”

“Ah, yes. I saw them at the ball. Tell me, my dear, does your stepfamily usually leave parties early?”

“Oh, no,” said the girl. “They always stay to the very end, to be seen by as many people as possible.”

“Then… midnight,” said Lady Eudora. “If you leave the ball by midnight, you can easily be home before they return.”

“Thank you,” said Cinderella, as they climbed into the carriage. “This is… it’s like a dream.”

“And not only yours,” said Lady Eudora.

*

Cinderella entered the ballroom alone and unannounced. Silence swept in behind her and the dancers all stopped mid-spin to see what had caused it.

Prince Edward stood across the dance floor, staring as Cinderella curtsied. He hurried forward to take her hands, drawing her up.

“You’re here,” he breathed.

“And you’re the prince,” she replied.

“I’m sorry. I meant to tell—”

“It’s all right, Ed,” she interrupted, smiling. “At least now I know why you’d never seen an un-plucked chicken before.”

“I’m sure I’d _seen_ one,” Ed protested, but she was still smiling at him, and he smiled back. “Come with me…”

“Who is that?” asked Queen Lilian, as her son and the mysterious princess swept past her. “What’s going on?”

Lady Eudora appeared beside her. “True love, if I’m not mistaken,” she said.

“Love?” repeated King Albert. “Dora, do you know that girl? Does _Eddie_ know her?”

His childhood friend merely smiled. “Don’t worry, Bertie. I have a plan.”

“ _That’s_ what worries me,” the king said, but he shook his head and silently held out his hand, asking her to dance.

Lady Eudora smiled and accepted. She had changed partners several times after that— she loved to dance and King Albert had other duties— when the clock struck midnight and there was a sudden commotion. 

Cinderella raced through the ballroom, gracefully dodging dancers as she went.

“Wait!” called Ed, racing much less gracefully after her. “Please, don’t go!”

“I’m sorry!” said Cinderella, nearly in tears. “I’m— I’m sorry!”

Lady Eudora’s carriage was waiting at the foot of the palace steps, and it galloped off the moment Cinderella was safely inside it, disappearing into the night.

Prince Edward slowed to a stop half-way down the stairs, crouching to pick something up from the flagstone step.

“A shoe?” asked the king, joining him.

“A _shoe_ ,” said Edward, smiling. “Godmother—”

“A particularly dainty shoe,” said Lady Eudora. “It seems our Ed has found his bride.”

“And lost her,” said Queen Lilian.

“Then we shall find her,” put in King Albert. “We shall search the kingdom.”

“Father—” Ed began, but fell silent when Lady Eudora shot him a look.

“And when you find this girl,” his godmother said, “Prince Edward will marry her? If she is willing?”

“If so,” the king agreed. “They shall marry.”

Ed brightened. “Thank you, Father. She—”

“—could be anywhere, yes, my boy. And since no one seems to know her name, or where she comes from, that slipper is our only clue. You shall try it on the foot of every young noblewoman in the kingdom, until you have found her.

“But, Father—” Ed began.

“Listen to him, Edward,” Lady Eudora said gently. “Your father has decreed that you shall marry the girl who fits this shoe. _After_ you’ve tried it on every young noblewoman.”

“Oh,” said Ed. “Oh. Yes, Godmother. Father, I’ll set off at first light tomorrow.”

“Excellent,” said King Albert.

*

Lady Eudora stayed at the palace while the prince was gone. Some very discreet spies, temporarily in her employ, assured her that Cinderella’s family had no idea she’d been at the ball and that her situation was no worse than it had been before. The trunk was returned with Lady Eudora’s carriage after it had returned the girl home – the ball gown replaced and her mother’s torn gown retrieved, each jeweled hairpin carefully nestled in the folded skirt. 

To keep up appearances, Edward had started at the far end of their kingdom, doing – again, reports from very discreet spies – an admirable job of feigning hope that each young lady was his runaway love.

Finally, after three weeks on the road, his entourage returned, a familiar figure riding the prince’s charger, as he led the horse into the palace grounds.

The king and queen were quickly sent for, and there was no doubting the smile on the prince’s face as he introduced the girl to his parents. Cinderella was charming and polite, curtsying to the monarchs and immediately lowering her eyes after a glance at Lady Eudora resulted in a smirk and a quirked eyebrow. She wore both of the lovely silver lace slippers – she had kept the one she hadn’t lost at the ball.

“But you’re real!” Cinderella said in awe, when servants had been sent to draw her a bath and Lady Eudora had slipped into her room. “I mean… Your Highness?”

The older woman smiled. “I am real. My name is Eudora, and I am Lady in Waiting to Her Majesty, Queen Rosalind, who is sister to King Albert. I am also godmother to his son, Prince Edward.”

“Edward!” repeated Cinderella, then blushed. “I mean…”

“I hope my godson has told you this,” said Lady Eudora, “but he is in love with you. And has been for some time. He wishes to marry you.”

“Yes, he did say,” the girl replied. “I’m a little overwhelmed, my lady.”

“I shall be here to help, my dear. And I think I would prefer if you called me ‘godmother’, as Edward does.”

Cinderella smiled, lighting up her whole face. “Thank you, godmother.”

THE END


End file.
